Waiting a Long Time
“A mine, once there, cannot stop wanting to be a
mine again, in someone's mind. Old sticks of dynamite,
left behind in a tumble-down shack, cannot stop wanting
to explode.” —Dennis Tedlock
A woman, once a miner, cannot stop wanting
to be trapped again—
in someone's mind—chained like a dog to the coal cart,
saturated, crawling on hands and feet.
Like old sticks of dynamite, water-logged
and left behind, she cannot stop wanting to explode.
And is a woman wanting to be a woman again,
in someone's mind? If she is in no one's mind,
what is she wanting?
While she is waiting, is she both bat and worm?
In her tumble-down body, what is waiting to explode?
Who loves her body? Who hollows it out?
As she navigates low tunnels, does a woman
become the mine? The mine's long shaft, a woman?
Will she faint if her mind explodes in someone else's mind?
If she trembles in every nerve from a day of mining,
who keeps her waiting?
As she steps into the light, what can she become?
(reprinted with kind thanks from )
